


Small Victories

by portraitofemmy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Caretaking, Couch Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 04:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portraitofemmy/pseuds/portraitofemmy
Summary: “Come to bed.”Bucky blinks up at Steve, the grey eyes behind his glasses still squinted from staring at the laptop screen in front of him.





	Small Victories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wearing_tearing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/gifts).



> Mini fic Julia because she DID A THING AND I AM PROUD OF HER. This is kind of an after-coda of a fic we've been tossing around the idea of writing, but there should enough detail for it to stand on it's own. This is basically just cuddles. BECAUSE JULIA DID A THING AND DESERVES CUDDLES. :D

“Come to bed.”

Bucky blinks up at Steve, the grey eyes behind his glasses still squinted from staring at the laptop screen in front of him. The room is enveloped in semi-darkness, only illuminated by the screen and a lamp Steve had clicked on when he’d headed off to shower. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he winces. _Jesus_ , that had been two hours ago.

“I’ve got to finish this chapter,” Bucky mutters, hunching back down to stare at the blinking of the cursor in the open document.

“You’re teaching tomorrow,” Steve points out, pushing up the sleeves of the sweater he’s wearing from where it had fallen down to hang loose around his slender wrists. It’s Bucky’s sweater, too big on him by a half but it smells like Bucky when Steve buries his nose in the neck: worn leather, the vanilla-scent of old books, and chalk dust.

“I’ve also got a meeting with my dissertation advisor,” Bucky replies, turning to squint at the book propped open on the couch next to him. Steve sighs, and shuffles into the room so he can crawl onto the couch on other side of Bucky’s body.

The laptop screen shines brightly, white light and a jumble of roman and cyrillic character, at least 3 more pages than when Steve had last looked. Bucky’s been working since he got him this afternoon, Steve knows. He’d managed to coax his partner away long enough to get some chicken and rice into him, but then it was back to the dissertation. Steve had left him alone, instead turning his focus to his own work, a comic that would make up the core of his Masters thesis project.

Bucky doesn’t turn to look at him or say anything, but he does lift his arm in a silent offer. Happily, Steve worms his way in until he’s pressed tight to Bucky’s side, making the other man huff out a laugh.

“You can go to bed without me, you know,” Bucky points out, affection lacing with exhaustion in his voice.

“It’s cold,” Steve complains, half-joking, and slides his cold fingers against the bare skin on Bucky’s forearms in protest. Bucky himself must be cold, a henley with the sleeves pushed up wasn’t much in the face of the mid-November chill that had settled over the apartment. “You know you’re going to be miserable tomorrow if you don’t sleep.”

Bucky sighs, tipping his head back in defeat. “I know.”

It’s been over two years since the day they met, when Steve stepped nervously into an elective Russian Lit class. It was his last senior elective, something completely outside his comfort zone, but he’d figured if he didn’t try something new now, he never would. He’d spent the whole semester just as enamored with Professor Barnes as every other student who passed through Bucky’s classes. But it was only after he’d completed his credit and moved back firmly into his own department at the university did he really start to get know the man.

Bucky had kept him at arm's length for another full semester after Steve was done with his class, but it hadn’t lasted. They’d been too drawn to each other. Once it was obvious Steve was never going to take another class in Bucky’s department, even as he entered the Master's program, there hadn’t been any reason to to fight it.

Still, Bucky was as determined to do right by every single student in his classes as he had been two years ago. Steve knows him, knows that being too tired to function will only lead to a disastrous class and upset him later. He needs sleep, but his own work ethic is getting in his way.

Steve nosed at Bucky’s jaw, smiling at the prickling of Bucky’s beard on his skin. He presses a kiss to the little grey hairs in the edges of Bucky’s beard, coming in early at Bucky’s 29th year. Bucky’s hair is as thick and dark as it’s ever been, only the these little grey hairs and the crinkles by the corners of his eyes marking the 6 years between them.

“You’re ahead and you know it,” Steve points out, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. He trails a string of kisses up to the corner of Bucky’s mouth, smiling even as Bucky shakes his head. He’s frowning, pushing his glasses up his nose like he’s going to keep working, but he turns into Steve’s kiss nonetheless. Bucky’s never been much good at turning down kisses from Steve.

Pushing his advantage, Steve takes the opportunity to nudge Bucky’s laptop to the other side of the couch and crawl into his partner’s lap. Bucky settles his hands on Steve’s hips with a sigh, giving him one more kiss before drawing back. He looks thoughtfully over at the laptop, finally seeming to come out of the haze of academia he’s been stuck in for the better part of a day.

“Did you finish the Trediakovsky bit?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods tiredly. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and it makes Steve’s heart ache to see him spread so thin. “Well, then. Small victories.”

“Small victories,” Bucky agrees, tipping his head forward so his forehead is resting on Steve’s collarbones. “Sometimes it feels like this PhD is a fucking pipedream.”

“You’ll do it,” Steve says with complete confidence, scratching his fingers gently through Bucky’s short hair. “Just not all in one night.”

“Yes, Dad,” Bucky sasses back, making Steve roll his eyes.

“I know, I know, dare I want to take care of the man I love,” He drawls, and when Bucky sits back to look at him, he’s got that look in his eyes like he can’t believe Steve is real. That Steve is real, and here, and chose him, and keeps choosing him.

“I love you too,” Bucky murmurs back, his voice thick, and Steve kisses the beautiful pink bow of his mouth with a smile.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he promises, then brushes their noses together. “C’mon. Let me hold you tonight, okay? Your dissertation will still be there in the morning.”

With a smile and a sigh, Bucky nods, turning to save and close down his computer. It’s easy then to tug him off the couch and into their bedroom. They strip down to t-shirt and shorts and crawl into bed together, snuggling down into the cocoon of blankets waiting for them.

Bucky curls in close, and despite the difference their size, he tucks down easily into Steve’s arms. His beard scratches against Steve’s neck, prickly through the thin material of his t-shirt. But his hair is soft under Steve’s fingers, and he’s warm, so warm against the chill in the night.

Bucky’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. Smiling, Steve snuggles in close and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [portraitofemmy](http://portraitofemmy.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to come cry about Sebastian Stan with me.


End file.
